


Spring and Death

by chudali (fayenight2108)



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), M/M, also jihyo is a bamf, i wanted to make this serious and poetic but my monkey brain said no
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 06:49:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19436137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fayenight2108/pseuds/chudali
Summary: “Creatures of my realm have a rather nasty reputation. Yet, you are not afraid of me?”The God of Spring hummed thoughtfully, “You haven’t really given me cause to. Then again, there are very few things I am afraid of.”A retelling of the myth of Hades and Persephone because I hate the victim-with-no-agency-of-her-own portrayal of Persephone.





	Spring and Death

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by one of my favourite poems Persephone to Hades by Nikita Gill

“My Liege, may I know till when do you intend on babysitting Changbin?”

Chan rolled his eyes, “I am doing no such thing Seungmin. I am merely doing my job.”

“Ferrying souls into the underworld happens to be Changbin’s job. He is not _that_ incompetent. You, on the other hand, happen to be the ruler of this realm. Not only is it unbecoming for you to be supervising such menial work, but also it makes the souls _incredibly_ uncomfortable.”

Bristling at Seungmin’s bluntness, Chan levelled his terror-inducing stare at him. Naturally, Seungmin’s only reaction was to raise an eyebrow.

“Fine. What would you propose I do? Hold lavish parties? Drown myself in drunken revelry? Start wars for no apparent reason? You forget I am no Olympian.”

“My Lord, you not partaking in such shallow activities does not mean you are any less of an Olympian.”

“You’re right. Rather, it is because I happen to be the hideous god of death and misery.”

“My Lord know what I am about to say is out of love and concern. You have been over working. Deliberately throwing yourself into affairs of the underworld. Even ones you know do not require your assistance. I don’t know what has been bothering you, but it is clearly fatiguing you. You may be a god, but for how long do you think you can continue like this?”

Chan sighed deeply. Trust his aide to know exactly what he was doing.

Resigned, he said, “My domain is certainly death but lately everything seems darker, almost suffocating. The unrelenting prayers by humans for their dead loved ones’ safe passage into the afterlife and peace for their souls has been overwhelming. It seems even the souls of Elysia, the ones who have lived exemplary lives are mere husks, as if they were residents of the Asphodel meadows. What should I do? Nothing seems to give me joy any longer.”

Chan expected his trusted aide to launch into one of his usual ‘value yourself more’ tirades, but he heard nothing. Instead, he found a mixture of sadness and pity on his face.

“My Leige, perhaps what you need is light and warmth. How about visiting earth for a change of pace? Before you interrupt me, no, I am not saying you should visit Olympus or even that you should interact with mortals. Just go see the sun and the skies. It will do you good.”

“What about the realm and my responsibilities? What if some nymph sees me frolicking on earth? So many things can go wrong.”

“I assure you the underworld will survive a few hours without you. And I sincerely hope some one does see you _frolic_. I imagine it would be quite hilarious.”

Seungmin glided away, leaving the fearsome Lord of the Dead, sputtering in his wake.

Maybe he should take Seungmin’s advice more often. Not that he would ever admit to his attendant he enjoyed visiting the mortal land.

Chan walked aimlessly by a barley field near an idyllic village, far away from mortals and their constant bustling, all the while making sure he did not touch any living being. He was here to unburden himself and not accidently cause a bunch of perfectly healthy plants to wilt away. This is why he had not stepped foot on mortal land in centuries, preferring to stay in his realm and absolutely avoid Olympus and its inhabitants.

He made his way to the hill shadowing the village, vaguely recalling an alcove overlooking a river, he had found the last time he visited. Hopefully, the charm he had placed on it to keep humans away was still intact.

Huffing his way to the top of the hill, Chan’s celebration for barely managing to do so was interrupted by an ethereal voice singing an aubade.

Chan stopped in his tracks, mesmerised.

Inching closer, he glimpsed a circlet of flowers, adorning soft, chestnut hair.

Deciding to risk letting himself be revealed, he stepped closer, only to have his breath stolen from his lungs.

There was a young man sitting by the ledge of the alcove, wearing a creamy chiton, his dusky skin gleaming in the sunlight as he strummed a lyre. His strong jaw was offset by luminous eyes as he sang lilting notes, bewitching Chan.

He stood there, unmoving, shrouded in darkness, silently basking in the divine man’s presence for what seemed like hours.

He continued to sing until a dryad appeared at the entrance of the alcove, “Master, you must come immediately. Your mother grows impatient.”

The young man sighed heavily as he got up and walked towards the exit, passing right by Chan, who dared not breathe for fear of giving himself away. He suddenly stopped in his tracks and swivelled his head to glare at the spot Chan stood at.

Fortunately, the dryad hurried him along and Chan let out a sigh of relief when he could no longer feel the young man’s energy.

Turmoil raged in his mind. Who was this breath-taking man? Since he had made it past the charms he had placed on the alcove, the young man was definitely no human-. And was he able to see through his dark shadows he used to conceal himself? The only ones who could sense his presence in spite of the concealment, were Olympians. But if he did notice him, why did he not confront him?

He returned to his realm, full of questions and a suspicious desire to return to the mortal world.

Jisung crouched behind some bushes as he spied on the god of the underworld, aka his boss.

Lord Chan had been behaving suspiciously all day. Not only had he _not_ nagged him or his fellow judges to get through soul judgement quicker but also spent all day talking to the spirits in the Elysian Fields. What could the Master of Hades need from people who had done nothing but lived a righteous, kind and boring life? _Highly Suspicious._

So, he decided to play hooky and eavesdrop on the King of the Dead.

“Jisung, quit being an idiot. If Lord Chan sees you slacking off for the third time this month, he just might smite you into dust.”

That incredibly annoying voice. Could be only one person. Hwang Hyunjin. Fellow Judger of Souls, Perpetual Pain in his Ass.

“Yeah, and considering you’ve followed me out of the judgement chambers, you’re slacking off too.”

Hyunjin scoffed, “Please, I’m only here to drag you back so that Lord Chan’s wrath doesn’t leave us with a judge short. Then I’ll have to work overtime.”

A loud cough from behind them interrupted their bickering. Jisung cursed his fates. He was dead already, why did he _still_ have to suffer.

They both turned to face an entity worse than the ruler of the realm- His assistant, the ever tyrannical Kim Seungmin.

“Let me guess, Hyunjin, you are playing hooky because you wanted to go pet our demon guard dog. And yes, it is a demon. It has three heads. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, Jisung. I think it’s time for some punitive procedures.”

It would not be far from the truth to say Jisung was _scared shitless._

“Wait, wait, wait. What if I have information that might interest you?”

Seungmin narrowed his eyes, “Information first. If I deem it useful, I shall reconsider.”

Jisung grinned, “Oh I know you will. I’ve been following Lord Chan all day and have overheard him asking all royalty and demigods residing in the Elysian Fields, if they have seen or have heard of, and I quote, ‘a young man of unmatched beauty and a voice like liquid gold’.”

Seungmin suppressed a snicker at Hyunjin’s expression of disgust.

Did it surprise him someone had caught his liege’s eye? Not particularly, considering he had been following him around on his earthly visits. Did it surprise him that his liege was, crudely put, ‘a corny motherfucker’? No. Not one bit.

Sparing Jisung and Hyunjin one last glare, Seungmin turned and walked towards his Master, who was currently plucking petals of an asphodel like a love lorn fool.

“My Lord. Is there something that troubles you?”

Chan’s eyes widen marginally, and he quickly replied, “No. Why do you ask?”, warily eyeing the knowing glint in Seungmin’s eyes.

“Well, you have been venturing to the above-worlds rather regularly for the past few months, have been badgering the residents of Elysia with questions about a young man and as of now you seem to be in the process of single-handedly decimating the entire asphodel grove.”

Chan quickly let go of the remainder of the flower stalk. Was he really this transparent?

Before he could come up with excuses for his strange behaviour, Seungmin spoke, “My Lord, do not do anything stupid while I find out who this young man is.”

Chan froze. And unfroze. How did Seungmin intend on finding the young man with no information whatsoever?

The second he opened his mouth to ask, Seungmin scoffed, “Please. After your first visit you had a spring in your step, and you kept humming some tune and after your third one you became strangely obsessed with deers. I merely followed you and unfortunately bore witness to your slightly pathetic attempt at being subtle while you gazed at your object of affection. I was biding my time, wondering if you would do anything yourself. Clearly, you have not.”

Chan closed his eyes in defeat and cursed himself for giving this seemingly omniscient and extremely smug man permission to leave the underworld as and when he desired. What would other Olympians think if they saw the mighty King of the Underworlds laid to waste by a single underling.

Seungmin patted his shoulder in commiseration, giving him a rare genuine smile, “My Leige, give me a few hours and I shall find whatever there is to be known about him.” and glided away.

Chan hurried to the alcove, hoping the young man- no, the God of Spring- hadn’t left yet. He was waylaid by Jisung and Hyunjin, who insisted on throwing a welcome dinner for his newest soul judge, Jeongin. While he was an adorable and enthusiastic kid, his mind was occupied with wondering if Seungmin was right and the young man was indeed the God of Spring, that meant he could sense Chan’s presence, but not once had he looked in his direction, apart from the first day.

Shrouding himself in the strongest glamour he could muster, Chan stepped into the alcove.

He was, thankfully, still there. But his dryad companion was not.

Suddenly, the young man stood up and looked right at him. Before Chan could even realise he had been discovered, he spoke.

“I was starting to think you wouldn’t show up, God of the Dead.”

Taken aback, Chan let his glamour drop, his suspicions confirmed. This man was indeed the God of Spring and was incredibly unsurprised by his appearance.

Swallowing his instinct to run and hide, Chan puts on a facade of slight surprise, “You seem to know who I am, God of Spring?”

“And you seem to know who I am,” the other god grinned, as if he could see right through Chan, “Considering you were barely making an effort to conceal yourself, it wasn’t very hard to realise who you were. Although initially, I thought you were someone my mother had sent to keep an eye on me, but then I realised my mother would never call upon a creature who had this dark of an aura.”

Chan winced.

“I mean no offence. Just that my mother has her reservations and prejudices against creatures outside her realm.”’

Resignedly, Chan shrugged, “Creatures of my realm have a rather nasty reputation. Yet, you are not afraid of me?”

The God of Spring hummed thoughtfully, “You haven’t really given me cause to. Then again, there are very few things I am afraid of.”

“Well, given who your mother is, I’m not surprised.”, Chan grimaced.

The Spring God’s eyes narrowed, “Are you implying I am unafraid of things on account of my mother’s power and influence?”, he snapped.

Chan hurriedly raised his palms to placate him, “No, merely that in the face of your mother’s wrath, everyone else must seem fairly demure.”

The other god blinked, and his stance relaxed.

“You speak like you know my mother.”

“Let’s just say we have crossed paths on more than one occasion. None of those occasions ended well. Mostly for me.”

The God of Spring laughs, full and high pitched, bringing a smile to Chan’s face.

“Sounds like you’re more than a little scared of the Goddess of Harvest.”

Chan nodded sombrely, “Sunmi is a terrifying goddess and I have no qualms in admitting so, God of Spring.”

“Please, that epithet is too burdensome. I would prefer if you called me Woojin.”

His lovely smile has Chan ensnared.

“Very well, Woojin. Please call me Chan.”

Even though he had known Jihyo for over seven months now, Chan could never quite get used to the dryad’s withering glares and barely concealed disapproval whenever he came to meet Woojin.

At least he had Woojin’s apologetic grin in response to her hostility to comfort him.

Imagine his shock to find no Woojin and only a very annoyed Jihyo at their alcove.

“Master is sitting by the left bank of the river,” Jihyo spoke curtly, “Do not make him wait.”

And stalked away, as if she couldn’t bear to breathe the same air as him.

Chan called out his thanks and received stony silence in return.

As he walked towards the river, he spotted Woojin sitting amidst a field of lush green grass, fully bloomed narcissus flowers and a deer foal by his side. It dawned at him that this was Woojin’s domain. His home.

Yet, he seemed discontent. His expressive eyes void of all energy as he mindlessly picked blades of grass.

“Have I given you a reason to be angry with me Woojin?”, Chan called out while gingerly standing on the dirt road at the edge of the field.

Woojin’s gaze turned towards him and his unfocused eyes came alive, as he waved at Chan.

“No, why did you think so?”

“Well, the change of our meeting place made me think so”, said Chan while keeping his right foot on a patch of grass which promptly wilted into an ugly brown husk.

Woojin threw his head back as he burst into peals of laughter.

Delighted by having made Woojin laugh, Chan plopped onto the dirt road, uncaring of his outfit.

Woojin made his way towards him and bent down to touch the grass patch that had died and instantly brought them back to life.

“Looks like I have met my match”, chuckled Chan.

Woojin quickly straightened up, “Wait, does that mean you’ve never held a flower?”, he asked.

“On mortal land? Not in a very long time, no.”

“Time to amend that,” announced Woojin determinedly and plucked a narcissus, “try touching it now.”

Chan, panic-stricken, let his index finger graze one of the petals. To his horror, most of the flower remained intact except the one petal he touched, which instantly disintegrated into dust.

After a few awkward seconds of silence, both of them dissolved into giggles.

When they had calmed down enough, Woojin asked Chan if Jihyo gave him the right directions.

“Because she isn’t particularly fond of you, you know.”

Chan rolled his eyes, “Do you think I had not noticed? I think every time she sees me she wishes for me to drop dead, but then remembers who I am and gets even angrier.”

“I am very sorry about her, you know she often forgets I am no longer the young child she helped raise.”

Chan nodded. Woojin did tell him that Jihyo had been Sunmi’s attendent ever since Woojin was born and has stayed by his side ever since. He couldn’t possibly begrudge her for her devotion to him; not when he himself was drawn to the other, like a moth to a candle.

“It’s quite alright. Jihyo’s reaction to me is highly amusing, considering most mortal beings are petrified of me, so unadulterated rage is rather refreshing.”

Chan hoped his wry comment would get Woojin to laugh again, but instead his brows furrowed and he tensed up.

“Has your argument with your mother over mortals been bothering you?”, Chan guessed.

Last time they met, Woojin had told him about his one-sided argument with his mother over how mortals viewed him as and the things they prayed to him for. To most mortals, his identity was limited to that of Sunmi’s child. The sacrifices dedicated to him were as a vassal of the goddess of harvest rather than as god in his own right. He was constantly inundated with requests from them for good harvest or for high fertility.

_“I can’t blame them for that,” Woojin had said stonily, “Why would anyone care for a fey like god whose only purpose seems to be to nurture flowers. What use is spring by itself?”_

When he told his mother about this, Sunmi merely shook her head and patronisingly told him that his existence was enough, he need not be useful to anyone, and casually dismissed his concerns.

Chan quietly waited for Woojin, by now knowing he did not like to be pushed.

Sighing heavily, Woojin started, “I know what mother meant was that I was her pride and simply by being in this world, I brought her joy. But I have been _just existing_ for centuries now. All I do is sit in meadows, play the lyre and ask mother how her travels went, because I am not allowed to accompany her on them, since I am _too young_. I can’t help but think my existence is meaningless, purposeless.”

Letting Woojin take few calming breaths, Chan turns to him, “Remember my offer? It still stands. Come to my realm. Live away from your mother for a while.”

The spring god purses his lips, “I didn’t think you were serious about it.”

“I would not make light of this.”

“Even though you know of the consequences?”

Chan was fully aware of the consequences. Letting Woojin into his realm would mean making an enemy of Sunmi. For she would never believe her son left of his own volition. She would blame him, would say he stole him away, would turn the Olympians away from him. Not that they ever cared for him.

“Yes, I know your mother might try to fight her way into the underworld, but without my permission no entity can enter or leave my realm.”

Woojin’s eyes bore into him, as if trying to discern why would he go such lengths for him.

“You want to know my motivations?” Chan asked and as Woojin nodded, he said, “Well, there are a few. The altruistic one being, I care for you. I have known you for a short while now, and I can see how your mother’s love has been stifling you. You deserve to live your life, grow, make mistakes. As someone who had an extremely overbearing father, I can empathise. Also, I think it is time for the Goddess of Harvest’s comeuppance.” Chan finished with a ominous smile.

Woojin guffawed, “What could my mother have done to you?”

Waving away the question, Chan looks off into the distance, wondering if he should reveal one other reason why he made the offer to Woojin.

“You had said who has any need for spring just by itself. My realm does. When I say spring, I do not mean blooming flowers and fruits. I mean light. And hope. And nurturing warmth to souls who have forgotten what it is like to be mortal. The underworld needs what I cannot possibly give- your soothing touch.”

Woojin looks at him wide-eyed, “You think I can help your realm?”

Stretching his arms to hide his embarrassment over the outburst, Chan mumbles, “I know you can. Just ask Seungmin how much I have changed.”

Out of the corner of his eyes, he can see Woojin trying to fight off a smile as his ears turn red. Neither of them say anything for a few minutes, then Woojin stands up, “If I don’t get to pet your three-headed guard dog, I will be very disappointed.”

Chan jumps to his feet ecstatically, “You will come?”

“I will come.”

The God of Spring shyly links their pinkies together and the God of Death smiles foolishly at him.

Abruptly, Woojin calls out waving over his terror-inducing guardian, “Jihyo? Chan has something to tell you!”

Chan’s eyes widen and he panickedly glares at him, only to receive a shit-eating grin in return.

Jihyo stomps her way towards them and all Chan thinks is, _‘she definitely has stabbed someone before’_ and plasters on what he deems his most charming smile to convince an overprotective dryad that he is _not_ kidnapping her precious charge.

Woojin says, “If she pulls out her sword, we’ll make a run for it.”

‘ _Hey, at least I get to die in Woojin’s arms_.’

**Author's Note:**

> Brought to you by the one semester of Greek Lit I took in the first year of Uni :)
> 
> My twt- chudali2108


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